


Scarlet Heat like a Cherished Fetter

by AkumaStrife



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Concubine AU, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkumaStrife/pseuds/AkumaStrife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an exotic woman saves Roy from being sold at a slave auction, he comes to realize that everything has its price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarlet Heat like a Cherished Fetter

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite tame and more of a pre-relationship fic

The stunning creature had called herself Koriand’r, but Roy didn’t know how she could be human in the slightest. Her fingers were warm as she combed rose oil into his freshly washed hair; his body already scrubbed raw and pink with cherry wood soap. His nails had been painted a deep claret. He hadn’t been pampered like this since Madam Ivy’s brothel, but then…he tried not to think about that.

“I knew you were somewhere beneath all that grime,” Koriand’r said, breathy and pleased. “The prince will find you quite satisfactory, I’m sure.”

Ah, there it was again. The whole reason he was siting in a mountain of plush pillows in a large bath house, rather than out in the dirty back alleys.

Prince Jason, second son in the Wayne line. The metaphorical prodigal son who was prone to doing things his own way and disappearing for weeks on end. Known for his cynical humor and quick temper. The king had given him a bit of land and a sizable castle on one of the borders, with a small army and enough gold to keep him entertained and out of Prince Richard’s way.

“Are you so sure about that?” Roy asked, looking at his scars skeptically: gashes on his arms from darker times, and long welts on his abdomen and back from getting into trouble more often than he intended.

Koriand’r just smiled and stood in one graceful movement. “I know what the prince likes, his whims and fancies,” she said, and held out a pair of crimson leather pants. They looked like they’d barely fit. As he expected, he only managed to get two of the three buttons fastened.

“Which is why he lets you pick out his concubines. What was the last one like, and what happened to him?”

It was odd fate that he’d bumped into Koriand’r at all, down in the lower districts. He’d come over on a pirate’s ship, scrubbing decks and cooking meals for the crew. Of course as soon as they’d landed they’d tried to slap irons on him for the slave auctions. He’d escaped, but hadn’t gotten far when a golden tanned hand had caught his wrist with enough strength to almost rip his arm out of socket.  She was stunning, unearthly. Hair and skin seeming to glow from the inside out and had wide green eyes that stopped even the crewmembers in their tracks. She’d looked him over with a growing smile and dropped a handful of gold coins into the pirate’s grubby hand. It was far more than he was probably worth in hindsight, but he didn’t complain.  _Anything_  was better than getting thrown in the dungeons again.

He was only slightly concerned to later learn that he was meant to be the new plaything for Prince Jason. And by slightly, he meant considerably. The prince wasn’t exactly known for being merciful.

“He was a slight thing, played into the master’s feminine phase. Dark hair, pale, kept in silks and airy dresses. But he ran away with one of the page boys.” Koriand’r heated a sharp needle, pushing it quickly through one ear lobe. To Roy’s credit he only slightly flinched.

 “And he wasn’t tracked down and punished?” Roy asked, wincing as she fastened a rather large ruby stud into his ear.

“No, the master respected Timothy’s spirit, and let him go. The master saw how the page and his pet looked at each other. Now hold out your left arm please, yes just like that.” She set to work with the vermilion ink stain, painting swirling and edged designs up his arm, over his shoulder, and down his back. Craning his neck to watch her path, Roy was surprised to see that she deliberately avoided any of his scars. She prompted him to keep his arm outstretched so as to not smudge the tattoos as they dried, and went to work on his other side.

“The master craved something a little more…exotic, dangerous, this time around,” she explained. As he continued to dry she took a dark stick and outlined his eyes, smudging it until they seemed almost as bright as hers. “The master likes blue eyes best,” she said quietly, absentminded as she worked. Soon she was able to wipe away the excess ink on his skin, the tattoos set properly.

“If he wanted something exotic, then he should’ve looked no further than yourself,” Roy said. He twisted and turned as he surveyed himself in the tall mirror. He almost couldn’t recognize himself.

She chuckled and waved his compliments away. “That’s very sweet, but save your flirtations for the master.” She clipped a gold band around his neck and stood back to survey her finished product. “There, that’ll mark you as the favorite and should keep wandering hands at bay.”  

He turned to her with concern. “Will I get punished if it doesn’t?”

She only shrugged and took his arm, leading him down a lavish hall, his bare feet making little noise on the thick carpets. “Probably not, as long as he likes you enough.”

“Any chance I could still back out?”

Koriand’r laughed, head thrown back, barring her long throat. That was answer enough.

A tall pair of doors loomed above them, inlaid with gold and patterns reminiscent of Middle East splendor.

“Here we are, pet, try to keep your wits about you. He’s not as bad as the stories say. Just be confident and refuse nothing.”

The guards eyed him in appreciation as they pushed the doors open, ushering him in. The room was bigger than any he’d seen thus far, but that was to be expected he assumed. The rugs were elaborate and thick beneath his feet, burgundy and navy drapes covering the walls and framing windows that were nothing more than a waist high railing into the open air.

He faltered when he saw the Prince, but tried to keep his head high and continued forward smoothly. He wondered if the Prince could hear the way his heart beat, even from still so far away. The look on his face suggested that he very well could.

The Prince lounged in a simple enough chair, still large and comfortable, but without the usual pomp and decoration that royal types required. He was slightly tanned from the sun and the streak of white in his ebony hair was starker than the rumors described. Roy found himself wanting to run his fingers through it. He was at ease in an open, ruffled shirt the color of dried blood, and dark, cotton trousers shoved into a pair of study boots. He had an impressive ring on his middle finger (the family signet ring, no doubt) and Roy bit his lip, finding his mind wandering with wicked ideas.

When Roy reached the edge of the dais he stopped, waiting for permission or whatever was expected in this sort of situation. He’d never met anyone above the rank of a Baron, let alone royalty.

Prince Jason smirked, twirling his finger for Roy to spin for inspection. Roy held his arms out a bit and turned slowly, teasing his bottom lip for good measure when he faced the Prince again, and Jason’s smirk grew, eyes flashing with heat.  He curved his finger, beckoning, and Roy walked up the few porcelain steps. Jason spread his legs and hooked his finger in the gold band around Roy’s throat, yanking him down to his knees. Roy caught himself clumsily, hands resting on the Prince’s knees; his already too-tight pants inching dangerously lower. He looked up at the other quickly, unsure if such contact was allowed at first, but Jason made a noise like a purr, so he left his hands and extended his fingers over the thin fabric.

Jason grabbed his chin, turning his face this way and that for inspection, humming thoughtfully as he dragged a thumb down Roy’s lips. Remembering Koriand’r’s advice, Roy nipped at the invading finger, looking not up through his lashes but with clear incitement. Prince Jason wanted dangerous, wanted a challenge and something exotic. Well, Roy would give him just that.  

He was proven correct as Jason grinned, this time with less airs, and pushed his thumb into the action, chuckling softly as Roy flicked his tongue against it teasingly. Jason pulled his hand away to lightly trace the scars on Roy’s chest, his expression nothing more than attractive interest, rather than the usual distaste. For a moment Roy felt feeble hope.

Jason shifted his legs farther apart to allow more room for him, enticing him impossibly closer. When he finally spoke Roy’s breath caught, flushing warm and gripping the man’s knees tightly. His voice was deep and rough, rolling through him like bright coals. It made it hard to breathe.

“Well, it’s not going to suck itself.”


End file.
